


Unpleasant

by EmilyScarlett



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Asexual Enjolras, British spelling, M/M, Swearing, Unhealthy Relationships, Verbal Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-15 11:50:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4605639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmilyScarlett/pseuds/EmilyScarlett
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Grantaire was so loving, so devoted. Except for when he was drunk."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unpleasant

Things were great. No really, they were. He had been dating Grantaire for half a year now and Enjolras had never felt more cared for, more loved. It was so far from the unfeeling indifference that he’d received from his parents that at times he found himself bewildered. Grantaire seemed to like nothing more than hanging around him, waiting until Enjolras needed something and then being the one to provide it; whether it was as simple as getting him a glass of water when he was studying, or something much more serious, such as reassuring Enjolras when he had become so worked up by the thought that his asexuality was grating on Grantaire and had convinced himself that he was going to leave him. He felt affection warm him when he thought back to how well Grantaire had handled that.  
“What does sex matter,” he’d said, “when I get to be with you? I‘d gladly never so much as get off on my own if it meant keeping this.” Enjolras had looked into his eyes then and seen such sincerity and tenderness in them.

Grantaire was so loving, so devoted. Except for when he was drunk.

It wasn’t every time but when he was drunk enough Grantaire seemed to become a completely different person. He started off being overly affectionate, to the point that it was uncomfortable, but then something would inevitably irritate him and he would become downright cruel.

He was never physically violent, beyond a few thrown glasses that left holes in the plaster of the walls, but he would turn the full weight of his ire on Enjolras. He would descend upon him with cutting insults and vicious taunting that would wound Enjolras more than he dared to admit, even to himself. Gone was the love and devotion, almost as if it had never been there at all. Enjolras had to remind himself in these moments that it had been.

The worst part, however, was the next day. They would pretend as if nothing had happened and that hurt more than anything. There was never so much as an apology for the words that cut so deeply, and it felt as if he were bleeding out from the wounds they left. He knew that Grantaire regretted it each time and he longed for some acknowledgement that he didn’t mean the things that he said while drunk. Still, he said nothing out of fear that if he tried to talk about it, it would turn out that those cutting remarks were not so meaningless after all. He didn’t want to lose Grantaire, and if it was only when he was drunk then it wasn’t such a huge problem, right?

 

* * *

 

Grantaire had been out with Bahorel all day. He had been pulled from Enjolras’ side by the lure of sparing in the boxing ring for a few rounds. Enjolras had no problem with that, he knew they were both very good at their sport and neither would come away with more than a few bruises. The problem was that they would inevitable end up going out to a bar afterwards and would drink all day and not come home until sometime in the evening. It was always worse when he’d been drinking all day.  
Grantaire’s arrival home was announced by the sound of a body crashing into the door before it opened. When he finally made it through he could barely stay upright long enough to get to the couch on which Enjolras was working on his laptop. Enjolras already felt a little apprehensive but he covered it with a smile as he put the laptop aside.

“Hey, did you have a good time?”  
“Yeah, it was great.”  
“Good. Do you want to watch a film?” If they put a film on Grantaire would probably fall asleep on the sofa and they could avoid the whole scene.  
“Sure. I’m gonna go get another drink.”  
“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” Grantaire paused halfway through stumbling to the kitchen and turned to look at him.  
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he grated out.  
“It’s just… you’ve been drinking all day.”  
“So?”  
“So you’re… unpleasant when you’re drunk.” Enjolras didn’t want to start a fight but he wouldn’t lie.  
“Oh, and you’re fucking perfect?” Grantaire gave a sharp laugh.  
“That’s not-”  
“No! Do you have any fucking idea what it’s like to date you? You’re constantly working, so busily devoted to your cause that you don’t have a minute to spare for your boyfriend! You spend so much time with Combeferre and Courfeyrac that you may as well just join in and date both of them. They’d probably manage to put up with you, since you’re always with them anyway. And when you are here and actually paying attention to me, it’s not as if we can do anything anyway because you don’t fucking want to fuck!” He was practically screaming in Enjolras’ face by the end.  
“You said that didn’t matter,” said Enjolras, barely able to choke it out past the tears now streaming down his face.  
“Well maybe it does!”  
Enjolras quickly grabbed his keys and wallet before making for the door.  
“I’m going to stay with Combeferre and Courf tonight. I’ll be back tomorrow.”  
“Oh sure! Run away from something that‘s unpleasant for you! And to them, of course! Welcome to the fucking real world!”  
As he closed the door he heard something smash against it. He hoped it wasn’t something expensive.

He was lucky really that his friends only lived around the corner. He rushed to their apartment, trying to stem his tears. He didn’t know what to do. It had never been bad enough that he’d had to leave before, and the content had been different this time. Grantaire had always promised that Enjolras being asexual didn’t bother him, that he could do without sex, that it was worth it to be with him. Even when he’d drunkenly railed before, that had not been one of the topics. He understood that Grantaire probably actually didn’t mean it, that he was simply lashing out, but until he could find out tomorrow he couldn’t rid himself of the thought that it was true.

He managed to stop crying before he reached Combeferre and Courfeyrac’s but it was obvious from one look at his red, puffy eyes that he had been. They swept him inside without a word, seating him at the table. Courfeyrac went to make hot chocolate while Combeferre regarded him seriously.  
“What happened?”  
He told him. Told him how long this had been a problem, told him what happened each time, and finally told him what was different this time.  
“I don’t know what I’ll do if he meant it. I could try, I suppose. Maybe with him it wouldn’t be so horrible?”  
“Enjolras,” said Combeferre gently, “you don’t have to do that. You shouldn’t be doing anything you’re uncomfortable with and you’ve made it very clear before that sex repulses you.”  
“But if it’s that or losing him…”  
“If he can’t accept your sexuality as it is then he is not the person that you should be with. But Enjolras, there’s a far more pressing issue here.”  
“That’s right,” said Courfeyrac, whom Enjolras had not noticed re-enter the room. “This situation with Grantaire when he’s drunk, it’s abusive Enjolras. It can’t continue.” He said this very gently.  
“But-”  
“I swear Enjolras,” interrupted Combeferre, quite angrily. “If you are about to say ‘it’s only when he’s drunk’ or ‘he’s never physically violent’ I will sit you down and make you watch one of your own talks on the matter. Once is too often, Enjolras.”  
“You’re right,” Enjolras sighed “But I don’t want to leave him.”  
“Then you need to talk to him,” said Courfeyrac, “and get him to cut down on his drinking, or else you might have to.”

 

* * *

 

Grantaire woke up still exhausted and with a pounding in his head. He reached over to the other side of the bed, looking to cuddle up to his boyfriend and gain some comfort. What he found, however, was an empty space. _Oh shit._

He sat up quickly, the last nights memories returning to him in a rush. _Jesus Christ_ , he’d really fucked up this time and now Enjolras might have left him for good. What was he thinking? He hadn’t meant any of it, he never did, and he was always too ashamed the next day to explain that to Enjolras. _Why_ had he never explained it? Now he’d said something so awful and Enjolras didn’t know that he didn’t mean it. He wanted to immediately grab his phone and tell Enjolras that of course he was perfectly happy with their relationship being non-sexual, was overjoyed to have a relationship with him at all, and _please don’t leave him, he can do better, please_. The only thing that was stopping him was that Enjolras had said he would be back today and even if he was only coming back to tell him it was over then that was better, that was face to face, and Enjolras deserved that. But he wanted to be presentable when Enjolras got here (if he did come back, Grantaire wouldn‘t blame him if he never wanted to see him again), so after taking some painkillers and downing a glass of water he went to get in the shower.

When he finally felt human enough to leave the shower he found Enjolras waiting for him on the sofa.  
“You came back,” he said blankly. He’d almost convinced himself in the shower that he wouldn’t.  
“I said I would… Last night. Don’t you remember?” He said hesitantly.  
“I remember everything, I didn’t think you’d come.” He went to sit next to Enjolras on the sofa, slowly taking hold of his hands, giving Enjolras time to pull away if he wanted to. “Enjolras, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean any of it, not a word. I never have before either. I was too ashamed to tell you that the other times and that was selfish, that was so selfish to let you even entertain the possibility that I could mean those awful things and I’m so sorry but please, _please_ don’t leave me. I’ll do anything, anything at all Enjolras, I swear, just please don’t go.”  
“I can’t stay. I love you but I can’t continue this way. I can’t live in anticipation of the next time you’ll get drunk, it’s too hard. I don’t want to spend my life constantly dreading that.”  
“Then I’ll quit. I’ll never drink again, I swear it, just please stay.” Grantaire was crying now and clutching desperately at Enjolras’ hands as if to physically keep him there.  
“It won’t be easy Grantaire, just quitting like that.”  
“It’s better than being without you.”  
“Alright then, but we do need to talk about the things you said, my love. Is the lack of sex in our relationship grating on you?”  
“No Enjolras, I swear it isn’t, not at all. There’s nothing I would change about our relationship as long as you’re happy in it.”  
“And the time I spend working?”  
“You made it very clear from the start that your work would always come first. I accept that.”  
“And Combeferre and Courfeyrac?”  
“I… I am occasionally jealous of the intimacy you share with them, I will admit. But, my love, that is my own insecurity and nothing you have done. It is unimportant.”  
“If you’re sure…”  
“I am, truly. Does this mean you’ll stay?” Grantaire asked, trying to contain the hope flaring up in his chest.  
“Yes, I will.”  
“Thank you, thank you so much. I swear Enjolras, I will make all of this up to you, I will,” he said earnestly, before leaning in to kiss Enjolras only to pull back at the last second.

“May I kiss you?”  
“Are we back to you having to ask permission for a kiss?” It had been like that in the beginning of their relationship. Grantaire, so in awe of Enjolras, had been constantly asking permission before every intimacy, so terrified of doing something Enjolras didn’t want.  
“I didn’t want to presume. I hurt you last night. I understand if you don’t want to be physically intimate with me for a while, or ever, for that matter. I will need to earn your trust back.”  
“I suppose that’s true but I also believe that one day we will be past this. For now, however, yes, you may kiss me.” Grantaire did. It was the most tender, gentle kiss possible. He poured all of his affection, adoration, and contrition into it and was met in turn with Enjolras’ love, fondness, and forgiveness.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a quick comment to let me know what you thought. Or if you spot any mistakes (I'm pretty thorough with proof reading but some always seem to get by).


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